Nobody Said It Was Easy
by misskaterinab
Summary: Kurt and Blaine's lives are in danger, and they are sent to a safe house until the situation has been handled. But is that safe house really safe? FAGEtastic Four gift fic for BeMyHeroSeverus.


**FAGEtastic Four**

**Title: **Nobody Said It Was Easy

**Written for: **Gracie/BeMyHeroSeverus

**Written By: **misskaterinab

**Rating: M  
**

**Pairing: **Kurt/Blaine

**Summary/Prompt used: **Trapped together in a safe house, isolated

**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group: ****Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox.  
www. fanfiction community/ Fagetastic_Four/ 98339/ (remove spaces)  
**

**A/N: Please suspend any and all disbeliefs. I don't watch crime shows or anything - NO idea how any of this stuff works, so I reached way up deep and pulled out... this - Gracie, hope you like!  
**

Kurt pulled his Navigator into the driveway of the Hummel-Hudson home only to be met with several plain unfamiliar cars.

This wasn't an uncommon scene these days; as his father's campaign for Congress progressed, more and more people would stop by the house to "talk shop." Current office holders would offer advice, potential financial backers would offer money, and voters with heavy influence over the constituency would come to be wined and dined. Kurt reasoned that it couldn't be the third choice that day; Burt would've called Kurt in a panic asking him to come home early to help him entertain the important guests. Kurt had received no such messages and had come home at his usual time.

He squeezed his Navigator passed the guests' cars and parked it in the garage, and then he went inside to see what the deal was. He peeked in the mirror as he passed it in the foyer to make sure he was still looking put together. Satisfied, he listened for voices and followed those he heard to the dining area.

When he entered the dining room, conversation stopped abruptly. Burt Hummel was sitting at his usual place at the head of the table, but instead of a meal placed before him, there was a stack of papers, each covered with letters cut from magazines and glued on to form words, looking like a child's art project. Several men were sitting at the other places at the table. Kurt shivered involuntarily; these men did not feel like they were interested in furthering Burt's campaign. Not at all.

"Um, hi Dad. What's going on?" he tried to ask nonchalantly, but he knew he failed miserably. He felt the tremble in his voice as he spoke.

A man in a black suit immediately to Burt's left stood up and greeted Kurt. "Good afternoon, Kurt," he said, offering his hand for Kurt to shake. "My name is Detective Erickson."

_Police, _Kurt thought._ I _knew_ it_. _I knew something was going on._

Kurt shook the proffered hand and pulled up a chair as close to Burt's place at the table as possible. "I'd like to say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm already guessing that there is absolutely nothing pleasurable about your visit, is there." It wasn't a question.

"No, Kurt, I'm afraid not." The expression on Detective Erickson's face was a mixture of worry… and pity. Kurt could handle worry, and he could handle pity, but the mixture of the two set off alarm bells inside him, and he immediately jumped right back off of the chair he had just sat down on.

"Coffee. I need coffee. Does anyone want some coffee?" Kurt went into level one freakout mode, meaning he was still reasonably calm but getting a little agitated. Burt recognized Kurt's various stages and figured level five would probably be making an appearance before the end of the discussion.

"No, Kurt," Burt said gently. "We're all fine. Hurry, though. We need to talk."

_We need to talk._ Those words were never good, whether you were talking about your relationship with someone or not.

Kurt quickly brewed a fresh cup – the rest of the household drank plain coffee from the multiple cup drip coffeemaker, but Kurt had his own Keurig so he could brew any flavor he wanted within minutes – and headed back into the dining room. He grabbed a coaster for the hot beverage and returned to his seat next to Burt.

"Tell me," he said simply.

Burt took a moment to decide how he was going to tell the story.

"There is a group of people, Kurt, that have decided that my platform supporting arts education and extra-curricular activities in the schools as well as being adamantly pro-LGBTQ rights makes me an undesirable candidate. They don't want my 'gay agenda'," he said with air quotes, "being forced upon them and the citizens of Ohio. They're convinced that I am running for office solely to support my family's own interests and am not focused on the needs of the many."

"That doesn't sound so bad, Dad. There are these kinds of accusations and mud-slinging in campaigns all the time. I know you don't want to stoop to the level of the other candidates and I support that. How about a rebuttal? I could write it for you…" Kurt trailed off as he noticed the troubled look on his father's face. Burt shook his head slowly as Kurt talked.

"If that's all it was, Kurt, we could handle it. But that's not even a blip on my radar screen at the moment. There's more."

Burt pushed the stack of papers before him to Kurt, and Kurt picked up the one on top. As soon as he read it, his face turned white.

_Your son's a fag, _the first one said.

He read the next one.

_Fags will burn in Hell._

And the next.

_Kurt Hummel must die for his sins._

The magazine cut-out letters changed to computer printouts as the messages got longer and more hateful.

_Those who condone the acts of the sinner are just as bad as the sinner themselves. All must pay for their crimes against God._

_If the arts are what saved your son, then they definitely need to go. Maybe he'll kill himself without his precious little show choir and save me the trouble._

_I hear they call the glee club Homo Explosion. Hmmm. Explosion. KABOOM. There's a lovely idea..._

As soon as he read the last one in the stack, Kurt vaulted out of his chair and could be heard retching in the kitchen.

_I'll get your pretty boy, and his faggy little boyfriend, too. They will be put to death and judged for their sins, and then they will burn at the gates of hell for all eternity. THEY MUST PAY. _

Kurt came out of the kitchen, white as a sheet. "I have to go find Blaine," he said with a raspy voice, evidence that he had just been sick.

"Who is Blaine?" the detective asked. "Oh, is that the…" he hesitated, not wanting to say the words.

Kurt picked up on it and said, "The _faggy little boyfriend?_ Yes, that's him."

"Where is he now, Kurt?" Burt asked.

"He should be home by now, probably taking a nap. He was kind of tired today at school."

"We'll have to go get him after I share our plan for you," Detective Erickson said. "For now, here's what's going to happen. You will go and grab enough necessities for a few days, and then we're going to bring you to a safe house. We'll pick up Blaine on the way."

"I should probably call him," Kurt said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. The detective immediately snatched it away.

"No, Kurt. We'll be using this phone in a few moments to start planting a few red herrings with your friends, but after that, your cell phone is going off line. We can't have you telling him over an interceptable phone line that he's in danger and we're bringing him to a safe house with you. We don't know what this person is capable of as far as tracing and tracking."

"Oh." Kurt frowned. "Well, if Blaine and my family are all in hiding with me, there's not going to be much I'll need to say to anyone anyway that I can't just say directly to them, right?"

Detective Erickson hesitated.

"Oh no, that's a bad look on your face. What?"

"Kurt, it's just going to be you and Blaine there. You two are in the most danger – you were both specifically mentioned in the threats. The rest were just referred to as an aside. We have got to get you and Blaine to a safe place, but as for the others, we will be keeping a close eye on them until either the situation has been defused or it has escalated to such a point where we feel that they need to be relocated as well."

Kurt sighed and leaned over the table cradling his face in his hands. _"This isn't happening," _he mumbled. His father and the detectives at their table were silent for a few moments while Kurt wrapped his head around the situation. He was able to compose himself quickly and put his game face on. "Okay. So, what's the plan?" he asked.

A man sitting next to Detective Erickson, whose name Kurt learned was Detective Miller, spoke up. "The first thing we need to have you do is make a few phone calls to your friends. We'd like you to let it be well known that your aunt has invited you and Blaine to stay with her for a few days."

"I don't think I have an aunt…do I, Dad?" Kurt turned to address his father.

"By marriage. Carole has a sister outside of Dayton," Burt confirmed.

"Oh, that's right. Janet, if I remember correctly."

Burt nodded. "Yes, that's her."

Detective Miller looked anxious to move on, but he allowed the side conversation as it was important for Kurt to believe in the details so there would be no slip-ups. "All right, so you're going to stay with your aunt for a few days. A woman on the force has agreed to play your aunt for the purposes of our transfer, and she will be arriving shortly to pick you up. You two will then go to Blaine's house to collect him, and after that you will be brought to a safe house, where you'll stay until we've caught this person."

"And we don't think this will take too long, Kurt," Detective Erickson added. "We believe this person is serious, but we also believe this person is an amateur. We have faith that we will be able to catch up to and apprehend this person before anything dire happens."

Resigned, Kurt nodded. "Okay. What do you need me to do first?"

"Well, first you should probably call a few friends. Tell them of your plans for the weekend. Maybe let it be known that this aunt lives out where cell reception is nil, so if they don't hear from you for a few days, they shouldn't worry."

The other detective spoke up again. "I've just gotten word that fake Aunt Janet is on her way and will be here soon, and Kurt has yet to gather his things together. Perhaps, Kurt, you can call the people on your list most likely to spread the word?"

Kurt nodded, pulling up Mercedes' phone number. Between 'Cedes and Rachel, they'd have all of McKinley plus half the surrounding area in the know within an hour.

"Hey 'Cedes, it's Kurt. I just wanted to call and let you know that my aunt Janet has offered for me and Blaine to spend a few days with her, and we decided to take her up on it. We won't be in town; in fact, she's kind of out in the boonies so you likely won't be able to get in touch with me while we're there. I will give you a call as soon as I get home. Love you!"

The detectives looked questioningly at him. "Voicemail. Sometimes she goes and hangs out with her church youth group after school." Kurt looked at the time on his cell phone. "She won't be much longer and then she'll hear my message. I'm the only person she never ignores." The detectives seemed satisfied with the information.

Kurt left a nearly identical message on Rachel's voicemail. "She's probably practicing her audition for NYADA. She's rehearsed for it every single day since we discovered Julliard doesn't have a musical theatre program." He scrolled through his contacts looking for any other VIPs on his list. "Well, if you don't want me contacting Blaine, I'm about done. Those two couldn't keep their mouths shut if they were glued and stapled, so the news that Kurt Hummel is on his way out of town with his aunt should be halfway across the US by dinnertime."

"Good. May I have your phone, Kurt?" Kurt handed over to the detective, who fiddled with some buttons and then powered it off. "Just making sure it's well and truly off. Now, I have a different phone for you." He handed Kurt a very basic looking phone. "It may not look like much, but it's got a GPS and sophisticated tracking and encrypting software. This is for use while you're in protective custody. The place we're bringing you to is in fact fairly rural and you won't get a signal on a regular phone, that's true. This one will ensure you have a means of communication. Guard this phone, Kurt. Don't let it out of your sight."

Kurt made his promise, and then the detective pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "It's time for you to pack, Kurt. 'Aunt Janet' will be here any minute."

"What should I pack?" Kurt wondered.

"Clothing…" Detective Erickson looked at Kurt's outfit. "Simple, comfortable clothing to last a week or so, toiletries, and some off-the-grid entertainment: books, media players and game systems that don't connect to the internet, and what have you."

Kurt hurried to his room and gathered all his yoga clothing as that was the most comfortable and basic clothing he owned, as well as his portable DVD player and DVD wallet that he kept filled with old favorites, a couple of books, the current issue of Vogue, his iPod, and his personal care products. He felt fortunate that he slept over at Rachel's and Mercedes' houses often enough where he just owned two sets of items: one complete set that he used on a day to day basis, and one scaled down set that he kept packed for spur of the moment get-togethers. He loaded the clothing into an oversized backpack and the entertainment items into his messenger bag, and his products case was already meticulously packed.

Detective Erickson looked at him funnily when he saw Kurt loaded down with his things. "Hey, this is perfectly believable," Kurt assured him. "Anyone who knows me or knows of me knows that I take great pride in my appearance. My brother Finn would be happy with a toothbrush and one pair of underwear, but regardless of my situation, Kurt Hummel still has an image to uphold."

The detective held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, no judging! My wife takes more than this for one night. I just don't usually see guys with this much. Like you said about your brother, toothbrush and underwear, and sometimes not even the toothbrush."

"You probably don't hide as many gay guys, though."

"No, you're right about that. Are you ready?"

"One is never ready for this. I came home and my life kind of just crumbled in front of me." Kurt took a deep breath and held his head high. "But I'm a Hummel. I come from strong stock; look at my dad. I'll be okay." Another deep breath and Kurt said with more confidence than he truly felt, "Let's do this."

Kurt went to the dining room where his father still sat silently, looking very troubled. "Dad," he whispered.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry. Maybe if I hadn't agreed to run for office this wouldn't have happened."

"Maybe not, but maybe I would've run into a homicidal asshole somewhere else. I still believe in what you're doing, Dad, even if I'm a little scared out of my mind right now."

"You're so brave, Kurt. So brave." Kurt leaned over and hugged him, and Burt hung onto him for dear life. Burt addressed the detectives. "You will take care of my boy. If anyone hurts a single hair on his head, I swear to _God_ I will get elected and I will – "

"Dad!" Kurt interrupted. "Police officers. You don't want to blow the election by making threats against law enforcement."

Detective Erickson chuckled. "It's okay, Mr. Hummel. I understand. I'm a father myself."

The doorbell rang, and Detective Miller left the room to go answer it. 'Aunt Janet' had arrived, and it was time for Kurt to leave. Tears had been forming in the corners of Burt's eyes for some time now, and with the moment here, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, trying and failing to keep his own tears from seeping out from under the lids.

"I love you, Kurt, and I will see you very soon. We're going to find this whackjob and lock him or her up and then you and Blaine are going to come home to me. Tell him I love him, too."

"Thank you, Dad. I love you, and Blaine will appreciate the sentiment as well."

"Hummels, this is Aunt Janet. When this is all over I will introduce you properly, but for now, I don't want anyone accidentally calling her by the wrong name so she is only Janet to you." Detective Miller walked in with a woman who was of average height and above average looks – her hair color and features were actually somewhat similar to Carole's and wouldn't be too hard for an outsider to believe.

"We should get going," Janet pointed out. "I don't want Blaine left alone too much longer."

Kurt felt a bit guilty – in saying goodbye to his father, he had temporarily forgotten that Blaine was home alone and oblivious to what was going on around him. "Much as I don't want to leave you, Dad, I have to agree. I need for Blaine to be safe, too."

"Okay, kiddo. Love you. See you soon." With one last extra-tight squeeze, Kurt let go and followed Janet to her car, never once looking back.

Kurt and Janet rode in silence for much of the drive to Blaine's house. Kurt was busy figuring out how he was going to break the news to Blaine, and Janet stayed silent to allow him to do so. Any instructions she had to give were best given when both boys were in her custody, so she didn't bother debriefing Kurt at that moment.

"We're almost there," Kurt spoke up. "Your GPS will probably tell you to take Elm to get there, but Cedar is faster, unless you need to take Elm for some reason."

"Thanks for the heads up. I do plan on taking Elm, just because it varies from your routine. It's always good to vary your routine to keep people guessing."

"Oh!" Kurt said. He hadn't thought of that. "I totally get it. I bow to your expertise."

Shortly, they pulled up in front of Blaine's house, but Janet wouldn't allow Kurt to exit the car just yet. "Kurt, when we get out of the car, I want you to stay as close to me as possible. You may not have noticed, but I am armed, and if anything happens, you will need me to cover you. This applies for when we're in the house, too."

A chill made its way up Kurt's spine at the thought of someone being inside Blaine's house, but he pushed it aside. He had to believe the Andersons' security system would have provided Blaine with some measure of protection and that he'd be fine until they went in to get him.

"Can you tell me where in the house he might be when we go up to the door? The place looks rather large."

"It's HUGE inside," Kurt said. "I got lost going to the bathroom once. Well, Blaine's bedroom is in the back of the house, pretty far from the front door. I've been given a key – Blaine doesn't always hear the doorbell from back there, and he doesn't like me to wait. His parents are pretty much never home, and the servants are day staff that don't work when Mr. and Mrs. Anderson aren't home, so there isn't anyone to answer the door when he doesn't. And he's not likely to answer today – he went home from school exhausted and is probably napping. He's always had problems with nightmares ever since he was beaten up several years ago, but they were particularly bad last night."

"Okay, it's probably a good thing that you have a key – we won't be standing outside for any longer than necessary. Let's get in there quickly so we can get out of there quickly."

Kurt pulled out his keyring and made sure the correct key was ready before hopping out of the car. He walked with Janet up the front walk and to the door. He unlocked the door and went inside first – normally he'd be a gentleman and let the lady in first, but since the lady was the one packing heat and covering his rear end, he figured it was okay to forgo his manners just this once. After disarming the security system before it could go off, he led Janet upstairs and to the end of the hall.

"This is his bedroom. He needs to be woken up gently – it doesn't happen often but he's flashed back before and I don't want it happening now of all days."

Janet nodded. "I will need to be able to see in the room, but I won't come in any farther than the doorway."

Kurt slowly pushed open the door, and sure enough, Blaine was buried underneath the covers of his bed with nothing more than a few escaped curls peeking out from under the blanket's edge. Kurt smiled briefly but then composed himself, getting down to business.

He slid the blanket down to Blaine's shoulders and gently pressed a palm to his cheek. "Blaine honey, wake up."

"Mmm Kurt," Blaine mumbled into the pillow. He stirred a bit but did not wake.

"Blaine, you need to wake up now," Kurt said more firmly.

"Dun wanna get up. Come lay wit me, Kurtie."

Kurt tried a different tactic. He moved his hand from Blaine's cheek to his arm and shook it. "Blaine, you need to get up now. We're going to be late, and you aren't even dressed yet!" It was a fib, but it got Blaine's attention.

"What? Kurt? We didn't have plans tonight, did we?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We couldn't have. You specifically said 'See you tomorrow' when we left school. What's going _on,_ Kurt?"

"Are you awake now, sweetie?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, I'm awake. Wha – "

Kurt placed a finger over Blaine's lips to shush him. "Blaine, I need you to be quiet and listen carefully to me, okay?"

Blaine nodded.

"First of all, everything I am about to tell you is true. It is not a joke, even though we may desperately want to believe it is."

Blaine looked worried now. "Kurt? You're scaring me."

Kurt scooted across the bed to sit next to Blaine. "Believe me, I'm scared too." He took a glance at the doorway where Janet was standing. She pointedly took a glance at her wrist where a watch would be if she was wearing one. It said to Kurt, hurry up, we're losing time. "Blaine, my dad has been receiving death threats targeted at us. We're being transferred to a safe house for our protection."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak but Kurt cut him off. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there is a woman standing in your doorway." Blaine's head whipped around to face the door and Janet waved her fingers at him. Blaine's face fell instantly. "For all intents and purposes, this is Aunt Janet. Our story is that we've been invited to stay at her place over the weekend. Her place is actually a safe house where we'll be hidden while the police track down this psycho who wants to kill us."

"Someone wants to kill us?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded.

"Standard reason?" he asked again.

"Homophobes, yes. Ain't life grand," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Blaine looked as if he wanted to cry. "When is this crap going to end? We're good people, Kurt."

"Yes, we are." Kurt started to hug Blaine, but Janet cleared her throat, catching their attention.

"Okay, guys. Kurt, I know you want to comfort Blaine, and Blaine, I know you have questions that need to be answered, but may I please remind you that you two are in danger and need to be moved ASAP?"

"I'm sorry, yes," Kurt replied.

"I'm sorry, too, but we do need to speed this up a little. Blaine, I need you to pack. Clothes and toiletries for about a week, entertainment that does not involve the internet in any way, things of that nature."

"Don't forget your medicine, sweetheart," Kurt said softly.

"Medicine? Is he sick?" Janet asked worriedly. One of them being sick would complicate things.

"It's to help him sleep. Help keep the nightmares away. It doesn't always work, but if anything's nightmare inducing, it's this situation. I don't want him to forget it."

Janet nodded. _He'll definitely be needing that,_ she thought.

Blaine scurried around his room, occasionally looking to Kurt for direction as to what he should bring. He added a couple more DVDs to the stack in addition to a book he was reading for English class, but otherwise Kurt had enough things to do for both of them. He went into the en suite bathroom and pulled the bottle of pills Kurt had mentioned from the medicine cabinet. He was just about to zip up his backpack and call it good when his eyes landed on Margaret Thatcher dog; he snatched it up and stuffed it in the backpack.

"Okay, I think I'm good now."

"Are you sure? You've got way less stuff than Kurt," Janet pointed out.

Blaine shrugged. "Kurt lets me use his stuff. Expects it, even, sometimes. I'm not worried about it. I have other things to worry about now."

Now that Blaine was done packing, he and Kurt turned to Janet and waited for instructions. "First of all, Blaine, I need your phone. We're going to turn it off and leave it here." Blaine looked distressed; he was practically married to his phone. "We don't know if they can track you with it, Blaine. We can't risk it being on you." Resigned, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Janet, who turned it off, pulled the battery out, and set the pieces on Blaine's desk.

"Now, tell me about your parents' whereabouts."

"They're on some sort of trip through Europe. I have no idea where they are now, and to tell you the truth, I don't care. They've been leaving me on my own since well before they probably should have from a legal standpoint, so I will handle this situation alone as I always do."

"Okay," Janet said, knowing when she should leave a situation alone. "I do think you should leave a note, though."

"I doubt they'll be home to read it before I get back, but I'll do it," he agreed.

The three went downstairs to the kitchen. Blaine grabbed a sheet of scratch paper and a pen and scribbled out a quick note to leave on the table.

_**Mom and Dad, off to spend the weekend with Kurt at his Aunt Janet's house. ETA TBD. Will see you when I see you. Blaine.**_

Janet was a little startled by the bluntness and complete lack of emotion in the note but said nothing. She had bigger responsibilities to deal with. "So, are we ready to go? No pets or other family members to deal with?"

"Nope, I'm good to go," said Blaine, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"Before we go outside, try to at least look happy. This weekend away was supposed to be your choice so you shouldn't look as if your dog ran away or something."

Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt on the lips. Kurt and Janet were both a little surprised. "What?" he said. "Kissing Kurt always makes me happy." A cheesy grin spread its way across Kurt's face, and he had to admit, Blaine's idea had cheered him up a bit.

Janet smiled, too. "Whatever works. Let's get out of here. Be sure to arm your security system as you normally would." Kurt and Janet stepped into the doorway as Blaine pressed the right buttons on the alarm panel to set it. As soon as he was done, all three of them shuffled quickly out the door, Blaine dousing the lights as he passed the switches.

Kurt and Blaine held hands as they made their way to the car. They pretended to bicker lightly over who would get the front seat. They put Blaine's bag in the trunk with Kurt's and slid into their seats (Blaine won the battle, though Kurt would say later that he _let_ Blaine win).

"Permission to speak freely?" Blaine said as they drove away.

"I'm a police officer, not your commanding officer, Blaine. Not to mention, to you I am Kurt's aunt and you would never need to speak to her like that."

"Sorry. Could you please tell us a little more about this safe house, Janet?"

"There's not a whole lot I can tell you. It's out pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and it was actually an old bomb shelter that a private citizen had built in the late forties. It was built underground, and it is very strong, but it was kind of primitive inside once we took it over, and I'm sorry to say there still isn't much for modern comforts or conveniences. We've inconspicuously run some electricity down there, and there's basic working plumbing and a few working appliances for food. Needless to say, you'll be glad Kurt packed some things to do because you'll need it. I think there might be a deck of cards in there but that's about it."

"We'll be fine," Blaine assured her. "Regardless of how shitty the circumstances truly are, Kurt and I can easily spend hours together doing pretty much nothing at all."

"All I ask is that we can bathe. _Please_ tell me we can bathe in there," Kurt begged.

Judy laughed heartily. "You can bathe. It has the tiniest stall shower known to man, but you boys are skinny enough for it not to be an issue. Just don't try to stuff both of you in there at the same time, because I will be the only one authorized to check on you boys, seeing as how I'm your 'aunt', and while you are both adorable, I do NOT want to come in and have to crowbar you two out of there while you are _in flagrante delicto_."

Kurt blushed deeply. "Oh, um, yeah. Shower alone, got it." Blaine was snickering from the front seat. Kurt flashed his patented bitchbrow at Blaine, but it was pointless; Blaine knew better than to turn around. _See if I let you shower with me after all this is over_, Kurt thought.

"We're almost there, boys."

Ten minutes later, Janet pulled up to a very utilitarian looking ranch house with a three car attached garage. It appeared cared for, but not necessarily lived in; it lacked the hominess that developed when a house had occupants. She opened one of the garage doors and pulled the car inside. It was just like any other garage except for the fact that the windows in this one were heavily frosted – they let the light in, but there wasn't any possibility of actually seeing what was going on inside.

Janet gestured for the boys to stay inside the vehicle until she had lowered the garage door. Once that was done, all three of them got out and retrieved the bags from the trunk. Kurt immediately headed toward the door that led into the house from the garage, but Janet stopped him.

"What?" Kurt asked, confused.

"That's not the safe house, Kurt. The house itself is the decoy. We are going to rig the house to make it look like there are people there when we're not by way of randomly generated shadows in the windows and lights on a timer. Remember what I said about underground? Come on, follow me."

Janet led them to the back corner of the garage. She moved a firewood box that looked extremely heavy with ease – the box was on inconspicuous casters so no one would guess it could be moved. When the firewood box was no longer covering the patch of floor it had before, Kurt could just barely make out the outline of a trapdoor in the garage floor.

"We're going to be underneath the garage?" Kurt asked skeptically. "Is that safe? No cars are going to come raining down on us, are they?"

"I assure you, Kurt, that this place was evaluated and repaired and reinforced in any way necessary before we began using this as short term housing. This thing was built back when things were built to last, so don't worry, it's nice and sturdy."

Janet ran her fingers over the edge searching for a specific spot. Once she found it, she released a latch that allowed her to lift the trapdoor. After flipping a switch and peering through the opening, she beckoned to Kurt and Blaine. "This way, gentlemen," she invited.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a look, and Kurt gestured that Blaine should go first. Blaine tossed his bag over his shoulder and grabbed one of Kurt's before heading down through the small hole in the floor. Kurt followed closely, stepping carefully down the narrow steps before entering the space. And that's really all it was. It was a reinforced room with absolutely nothing special about it.

"Would it have killed you people to bring a few throw pillows down here?" Kurt tried to joke. Blaine and Janet laughed politely, but the joke fell quite flat and Kurt zipped his lips.

"Wow, it's like reality just came and kicked me in the balls," said Blaine. "It didn't seem real before, but now that I see this plain steel and cement room underneath a garage floor, it's hitting me. Someone really wants to kill us?" He looked toward Kurt for confirmation.

Kurt nodded. "I'm really sorry, baby." Kurt set down his belongings and opened his arms to Blaine, and Blaine went to him immediately. They embraced for a few moments before Janet interrupted them.

"I need to get out of here soon, so I need to give you the rundown on how this is all going to work." The boys nodded. Janet gestured toward the bed in the corner, which was the only place to sit aside from a single chair on the other side of the room. Kurt and Blaine plopped down on the bed, still holding each other, while Janet retrieved the chair from the opposite wall.

"Okay, first of all, Kurt, you have that phone on you, right?" Kurt pulled it out of his pocket and held it up in response. "Good. The charger is plugged in over there." She gestured to a small table across the room. "I want you to keep the sound and the vibrate on at the highest volume at all times. You can move the table it's on to any electrical outlet you want, but you should leave it on the table so the vibrations will echo through the room. The number one rule of this phone is do not make any outgoing phone calls unless you are 100% certain you are in the midst of a life or death emergency. Number two, there are only two phone numbers that you should accept phone calls or texts from. They are labeled in your phone as Janet and Ben."

"May I ask, who's Ben?" Kurt asked.

Janet laughed. "It's stupid, I know. But Detective Erickson was being a nerd when he programmed the phone. Ben stands for Benedict. Benedict Cumberbatch. Who plays Sherlock Holmes in the series Sherlock. "

"Oh I love that show!" Blaine interjected. Then he looked sheepish for the fanboy interruption. "I'm sorry, please continue."

"Anyway, Detective Erickson is a detective, and so is Sherlock, so…"

"Got it. I suppose Ben looks a little more innocent in a contacts list than Sherlock, huh?"

"That it does," agreed Janet. "Now, we will be making daily texts and phone calls to check in on you. I will be using the actual house to stay nearby and keep up appearances, but I will have to leave at times."

"Wait, why do you get to stay in the regular house and not us?" Blaine asked.

Janet stood and raised her tunic blouse to reveal a holster around her waist. She lifted both legs of her palazzo pants to uncover the ankle holsters there. All three were holding impressive looking weapons. Both boys gasped.

"Holy shit!" yelped Blaine.

"Oh my god, I thought you just had horrible fashion sense and didn't know how to dress to flatter your body!" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine and Janet both stared at him for a moment and burst out into laughter.

As they calmed down, Janet said, "Yeah, I'm armed to the teeth and trained to use them all. Helluva shot, too, if I say so myself. You boys are NOT. That is why I'm up there and you're down here."

"Point taken."

Janet sat back down in her chair before continuing. "So as I was saying, I'll be up there for stretches at a time, but I will have to leave – department meetings and paperwork and all that crap. Either 'Ben' or I will keep in touch with you via the phone. I won't come down here unless I need to – the less shuffling around I do in that garage, the better. If you need something, text me and I will do what I can to help."

Blaine and Kurt nodded solemnly.

"Now, is there anything you boys need before I go?"

"Is there food down here?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, the refrigerator and cupboards are stocked. Don't get too crazy cooking since you don't want a fire down here or anything, but you have enough fresh food and water down here to last some time."

"Okay. I think we'll be all right then," Blaine said. "Considering…" he said, gesturing toward the bleak walls surrounding them.

"I understand." Janet rose from her seat and approached the boys, holding her arms out for a hug. They immediately stood up and obliged her, seeking comfort in any form that it came. "I'm pretty fond of you boys already. I promise, my team and I are doing everything we can to track down this nut case and keep you two safe."

"And you're keeping an eye on my family, too, right? My dad's had troubles with his heart…" Kurt trailed off, worried.

"Yes, we are. We have someone on your house, running surveillance, and he's also a trained paramedic. If anything happens, he can be first on the scene in moments."

"Good. I know we have other people in our lives now, but I was the only one for so long… sometimes I worry like I'm the dad."

"We'll take good care of him, too, Kurt." Reluctantly, she broke apart from the boys and headed toward the steps. "I really need to get moving. Keep a good eye on your phone. Your communication with us depends on it. We'll do everything we can to get you boys back above ground as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Janet," Kurt said, his voice breaking with emotion. Blaine echoed the sentiment.

"See you later, kids." She ascended the steps, and Kurt and Blaine heard the trapdoor being lowered and the latch clicking shut.

There was silence for a few long moments. When Blaine finally looked at Kurt, the look on his face almost broke his heart. Kurt's lower lip was trembling and pools of tears seconds from spilling over filled the corners of his eyes.

"Oh sweetheart," Blaine whispered in a low voice, his own façade beginning to crumble. "Let it go, Kurt. You've been so strong the entire time you've needed to be. We're alone now; it's time to let it all out."

And Kurt did. He buried his head in the crook of Blaine's neck and just sobbed. Blaine tried to hold it together for both of them, but between his fear of the unknown and the gut-wrenching sobs his love was letting out, he couldn't hold back any longer.

They clung to each other for dear life and cried for what seemed like hours, but in reality it took about fifteen minutes for them to cry themselves dry. Kurt lifted his head from Blaine's shoulder and winced.

"Damn, I have a huge headache now," Kurt said, sniffling, his eyes scanning the room for a box of tissues.

Blaine jumped up from the bed and gently pushed at Kurt's shoulders. "You lay down for a couple of minutes. Let me explore the little there is to explore and see if anyone left us anything useful."

Upon rummaging through the tiny bathroom and kitchen areas, Blaine was able to gather a spare roll of toilet paper, a few packets of aspirin, and a bottle of water.

"It's not Tylenol and Kleenex, but it's the best I can offer you."

Kurt sat up to take Blaine's finds and kissed him on the cheek. "Beggars can't be choosers. Thank you, honey."

He chased a couple of aspirin down with the water and ripped a strip of toilet paper off the roll. "Ooooh, public restroom grade toilet paper. My favorite. I expect only the best from l'hôtel du HELL."

Blaine took the piece of toilet paper and wadded it up, using it to blot the tear tracks on Kurt's face. "It's okay, Kurt. They don't think we'll have to deal with this for long. Pretend it's something fancy. Like Charmin. Or at the very least, Angel Soft."

Kurt giggled softly and looked at Blaine with a shaky smile, rubbing away a stray tear of Blaine's with a gentle swipe of his thumb. "I'm so glad you're here with me. If we absolutely must be in such a crappy situation as this, I am glad you're here by my side. I feel like if I'm with you I can conquer anything." He pulled Blaine closer to him and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips. "I love you so much," he whispered reverently.

"I love you too, Kurt. So much." He wrapped his arms around Kurt in a tight hug before pushing him back into a reclined position on the bed. "Come on. Let's take a nap. I know it's not quite bedtime yet, but this 'being in danger' business is exhausting. We can rest up a bit and then see what kind of food we've been given to work with for a late night meal." Blaine tossed the tear-soaked toilet paper wads and the empty water bottle in the trash, and then he pulled off Kurt's boots and his own shoes before crawling onto the bed behind Kurt. He pulled the blanket over them and spooned into Kurt, holding him as tightly as he could manage while still allowing Kurt full air flow.

Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek, but Kurt turned his head back as far as he could to claim his usual full goodnight kiss. He didn't like to go without those kisses on a good day, and that most definitely was not a good day.

**xXxXxXx**

"_No….no, stop!"_

Kurt rolled over in his sleep to the sound of Blaine talking in his sleep. "Mmph, hush, honey. Go back to sleep."

"_Oh god, no… please… not him!_

Blaine's voice grew louder which shook Kurt out of his not-quite-awake fog. "Blaine, are you okay?" he asked carefully.

"_NOOOOOOO!" _Blaine screamed and he began kicking and fighting an invisible enemy in his sleep. _"KURT! Oh god, Kurt, please don't die! DON'T DIE!"_

Kurt groped around for the small light on the table next to the bed. He clicked it on and began to shake Blaine firmly. "Blaine, wake up! It's just a nightmare. Blaine? Please wake up!"

Finally, Blaine began to pull himself from his mind. He slammed into consciousness, sitting up abruptly and gasping, sweat beads forming at his hairline. "Oh god, Kurt?"

"I'm here, Blaine. I'm okay. And you're okay, too."

"I had a bad dream, Kurt. They had a gun… and they pointed it at you… and, th-they p-pulled the t-trigger, Kurt!" Blaine's voice started getting slightly hysterical, and Kurt knew he needed to calm Blaine before he had a panic attack. He had seen Blaine slide right from unconscious dream to a conscious panic attack before he had any chance to even fully wake up and it was not pretty. Kurt didn't ever want to see it again.

Kurt squeezed Blaine tightly in an attempt to remind Blaine that he was alive and that his dream was not real. Kurt worried that he was crushing him, but Blaine didn't seem to mind; he merely burrowed further into Kurt's embrace. Kurt coached him through a breathing exercise to help him calm himself until Blaine was breathing mostly normally again.

"Are you feeling a little better now, Blaine?"

"Yes, thank you, Kurt. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kurt kissed Blaine on the top of the head. "Why don't you lie down for a little longer, and rest, but _don't _fall asleep until you can take your medicine. I'll see what kind of food there is and whip something up so you have something in your stomach when you take it."

Kurt wandered over to the tiny fridge and plastic tote box of pantry items. He found some cold cuts and a loaf of bread as well as cans of soup. In the small cupboard nearby, there were bowls and a manual can opener. "Ham and cheese and chicken noodle, Blaine?" he asked, holding up the cans of soup for Blaine's approval. Blaine grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

The only method of heating anything was a small microwave that sat on top of the supply cupboard, so Kurt poured each can into a bowl and heated it that way. He wished he had access to a few herbs to jazz up the bland canned soup, but he made do with what was available.

After the food was prepared, Kurt dragged a card table he found folded up in the corner over to the bed and placed their meal neatly upon it. He added spoons and bottles of water, being sure to replace the cold bottles with warm ones from the pack of bottles next to the fridge.

Blaine dug into the food, finding that he was hungrier than he thought. Before Kurt sat down, he added one more thing next to Blaine's bowl: a small pill.

"Kurt, I don't want to take that," he complained. "You know how much I hate how loopy they make me feel. And it seems like they never work, anyway."

"It's a possibility that the medicine won't work if you take it, Blaine, but it's a certainty it won't work if you don't. Please, I know you don't like it, but you need to try. Your nightmares are caused by stress, anxiety, and traumatic experiences, and if being sequestered for our safety doesn't match those three things, I don't know what does.

"It is ultimately your decision to make, Blaine. But I urge you to at least give it a try. You have fewer nightmares when I'm around – maybe the combination of me and your pills will work for you."

Blaine fell silent for a few moments before reaching out to grab the pill. He popped it and then bent over his bowl of soup, slowly spooning it into his mouth. Kurt didn't say anything; praising Blaine seemed too much like how one would treat a dog for performing a new trick, but he did kiss Blaine on the cheek before digging into his own meal.

Their meal was eaten without ceremony and only occasional conversation. When they were finished, Kurt gathered and disposed of their paper plates and bowls, and Blaine wiped down the card table and stowed it back in its corner. Kurt grabbed his skin product tote and went into the tiny bathroom and came right back out.

"There's no room for me AND my things in there, and there's not even a mirror!" he whined.

"Just scale down your routine like you do sometimes at my house. You don't need a mirror for your cleanser and your moisturizer."

Kurt huffed. "Days at a time without the rest of my products is going to ruin my skin."

"No it's not Kurt, and even if it does, I'll be around to love your skin regardless. Just please finish up quickly so I can use the bathroom; I really have to pee."

"It's okay. I'll just do this out here. You're right, I don't need a mirror for this part. Go ahead and pee and brush your teeth, and I'll go after you."

Blaine nodded and shut himself inside the bathroom. He finished in record time and headed to the bed, stripping down to his boxers as he walked. Kurt took a moment to appreciate the view and wished they were in a different situation so he could take full advantage without feeling weird about it. After quickly finishing abbreviated nighttime routine, he undressed and neatly folded the day's clothing, stopping to pick up and put away Blaine's as well before finally sliding into the bed beside Blaine. Blaine was already mostly asleep, so he offered nothing more than a mumbled "g'night" and "wuv you" before drifting all the way off. Kurt placed a soft kiss on Blaine's exposed shoulder blade before drawing Blaine toward him and falling asleep himself.

**xXxXxXx**

Aside from a few times where Kurt woke up to a restless Blaine, they made it through the night with no nightmares on Blaine's part. Kurt had a funky dream, but it was just strange and a product of their environment, so it wasn't really anything to worry about.

Kurt felt Blaine stir next to him and he brushed Blaine's loose curls out of his face. Blaine's bleary eyes came into focus and he grinned. "Good morning, love," he said softly.

"Good morning, Blaine. How'd you sleep?"

"I think I slept okay. I don't remember waking up at all. Did I?"

"Well, you gave me your best rotisserie chicken routine with all of your tossing and turning, but as far as I know you did okay."

"You take such good care of me, Kurt."

"You'd do, and have done, the same for me. It's just what you _do_ when you love someone."

"I love you," Blaine said, and he pulled Kurt into a needy kiss. They were just beginning to escalate into a full blown makeout session when a loud buzzing sound came from the phone on the table next to them.

Blaine groaned and flopped backward onto his pillow. "Cockblocked by a damn phone."

Kurt reached over and read the message on the screen. It was from Janet. _**Morning, boys. Everything ok?**_

Kurt contemplated his response carefully and eventually settled on **Physical state excellent. Emotional state shaky, but we're doing okay.**

Janet's reply came so fast that Kurt was surprised. "What is she, a texting ninja? Santana texts as if her sex life depended on it, and Janet's got her beat."

_**Hang in there, boys. New note came in this morning, contained minor clue. We're checking into it.**_

Kurt read the message to Blaine. "Dare we ask her what the new clue is?" Blaine asked.

"I don't know. I want to know, but I can't handle the vitriol this person is capable of."

Kurt's curiosity getting the best of him, he responded **Dare we ask? (paraphrase please)**

A response was not forthcoming. Kurt waited a few moments and then gave up, citing the need to use the restroom. Pretty much as soon as the door shut behind Kurt, the phone buzzed again.

_**Sorry, was deciding if I should tell you. Simply stated, note writer mentioned decline of his property values. "Undesirable neighbors" generally only affects a small radius, so we're looking more closely at nearby neighbors.**_

Kurt finished and came out to sit beside Blaine, who read him the contents of the text. "Well, if they're looking at suspicious neighbors, Mr. Warner on State Street is the most bizarre person I can think of. Well, Mr. Ryerson is pretty insane, too, but I don't think he lives nearby. And neither one has children who go to McKinley."

**Thanks. Good luck.**

_**I'm about to head into the office for awhile – do you need anything before I go?**_

**We have what we need.**

_**Will keep you posted. Have a good day boys.**_

"HA! Have a good day. What a joke," Kurt scoffed.

Blaine was a little more optimistic. "Well, any time I have the opportunity to spend a day totally alone with you, I consider it a pretty good day," he reasoned. "So let's just figure out something to do and make the most of just being together."

"Okay," Kurt agreed.

Kurt dug through his entertainment bag and pulled out the Vogue magazine, holding it up for Blaine's approval. Together they sat holding the magazine between them, pointing out trends they liked and trends that must never, ever see the light of day again and trends that should earn the designer some jail time.

After that first full day in the safe house, Kurt and Blaine created a sort of routine for themselves. They'd wake up and linger beneath the sheets, relishing the fact that they got to wake up next to each other. After they reluctantly agreed that they should peel themselves out of bed, one of them (usually Kurt) would take their turn in the bathroom while the other got just a couple minutes more sleep. Then, while the other would take their turn getting ready for the day, the one who got up first would put breakfast together. Kurt was more fond of a light breakfast of jam and bread (there was no way of making toast) with some of the canned fruit that was provided. Blaine revisited his childhood (which he had never completely left, according to Kurt) by eating huge bowlfuls of sugary marshmallow cereal. Then they'd choose an activity and do whatever that was until it was time to eat again. After lunch was usually movies, and after dinner was couple time. They would cuddle, talk about anything and everything, slow dance to the music on Kurt's iPod, sing duets, basically anything that involved them paying attention only to each other. In the beginning, they were fairly chaste with each other, but it wasn't long before things turned sexual.

At first, it seemed almost inappropriate to be intimate in the safe house; it felt very weird, like they weren't even considering the gravity of the situation. But after discussing it, they decided they were being silly. Sex didn't _have_ to be just sex. It could be many things: a way to connect, a way to comfort, a way to reassure. Kurt and Blaine also couldn't deny that it was nice to be able to be with each other without worrying about getting caught.

So after several days of being in each other's constant company, after-dinner cleanup was followed by one enticing the other to the bed by whatever means necessary. Not that enticing was needed; both Kurt and Blaine would follow the other to the ends of the earth without question. But it was fun to be desired… needed … even stalked. They would eventually reach their destination together and each would do everything in his power to make sure the other felt like he was the most special person in the world. They would tease, touch, taste… basically drive each other wild. The moments just before sleep would be filled with whispered promises, declarations, and words of love.

Despite the stressful situation they were still in, Blaine's nightmares stopped.

**xXxXxXx**

The days slipped by and all of a sudden they were on their eighth day of being in hiding. Janet had stopped by once several days ago to replenish a few food items that had run low, and they still had their daily text updates, but aside from that, they were still completely cut off from the outside world. Kurt and Blaine were still enjoying being in each other's company, but they were getting bored. They were as well rested as they were ever going to be, they had scoured the Vogue issue from cover to cover twice, and even teenagers needed some down time for their libidos to recharge.

Blaine was in the process of rinsing out his cereal bowl from breakfast while listening to Kurt wonder out loud what was going on at home.

"We told everyone that we were only going to be gone for the weekend. I wonder what our friends are thinking about that."

Blaine wiped his dish dry and stopped to think. "Well, I think Rachel is pissed that the attention will be on 'what could have possibly happened to Kurt and Blaine?' and not completely focused on her song choice for her next Glee solo."

"True," Kurt said, nodding in agreement. "When we get out of here, she's probably going to yell at us."

"Kurt? Do you think we're going to get out of here any time soon? I'm starting to really wonder. Every day when we text with the detectives, they say they're working on it and they'll get us out soon, but 'soon' is starting to turn into an awfully long time."

Kurt sighed heavily. Before addressing Blaine's question, he flopped down on the bed and gestured for Blaine to join him. "I honestly don't know. I want to trust them. Heck, I _have_ to trust them because at this point, what else am I going to do? But the constant parroting of the same information is really starting to grate on me. I've been wondering if they've really got any leads or if they're just spinning their wheels with no real idea of what they're doing."

Both were silent, lost in their thoughts, when Blaine suddenly laughed sardonically. "You ever wonder what it would be like if we were stuck down here with someone like Sebastian?"

Kurt shuddered. "If I was stuck down here with him, I think I'd probably run up the stairs, pound on the trap door, and beg for the person who wanted to kill me to come down and put me out of my misery."

"You don't think he's behind any of this in any way, do you?"

"Oh god no, not at all. Killing us or having us killed would ruin all his fun. He likes hitting on you, and as a result, ticking me off, far too much to get rid of us permanently." Kurt knew Sebastian's type. He thrived on being awful directly to people's faces. He was rude and scathing, but he wasn't a killer.

"Yeah, you're right. Now that I think about it, I don't think he's smart enough to pull off anything like – What the hell?"

All of a sudden, the lights went out in the enclosure and everything was pitch black. Kurt reached out for the only known source of light that was not dependent on electricity, the phone. The bright screen would be enough for them to see a tiny bit.

Kurt pressed the button on the side to "wake it up" from sleep mode. Nothing. He pressed the button harder. Still nothing.

"Blaine," he whispered. "Please tell me I'm using this phone wrong. I can't get it to wake up."

"Give it here," Blaine requested. He fiddled around with the buttons, pressing each button harder than the last until he was practically stabbing them in his panic. "SHIT. It's dead."

Kurt got down on the floor on his hands and knees and carefully crawled to the outlet where the phone was plugged in. He groped the wall for the charger cord, and with just a light touch, the charger clattered to the floor. "Oh no. The plug must have been just barely resting inside the socket, not far enough in to make a connection. How did I not notice the phone wasn't charging?"

"Sometimes it's hard to tell, Kurt."

"Or maybe _someone_ shouldn't practically molest me every time I tried to use the damn phone!" Kurt snapped. Kurt could practically hear Blaine's face fall. "Oh crap, I'm so sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean that at all, you have to believe me. I'm just so stressed…"

Kurt heard the springs of the bed groan as Blaine slid off the side of the mattress. He crawled over Kurt and wrapped his arms around him. "I know, Kurt. I know."

Kurt felt a bit of moisture on his neck as Blaine snuggled up to him from behind. "Oh god, I hurt you, didn't I? _Blaine…"_ he said softly.

"Shhh, Kurt. It stung for a moment, I'll admit, but mostly because you snapped at me and not because of what you said. It takes a lot for you to be snippy with me, which is how I know how freaked out you are, and that makes me sad."

"Don't be sad Blaine, please," Kurt begged.

"It's okay, we're okay. Now – what about turning on your DVD player? We should get some light from that."

"Don't you remember? I dropped the player a couple of months ago and now it doesn't work on battery. I've been plugging it into the wall to use it because that's the only way it works."

"Shit. Well… Janet will come and check on us when we don't answer, right? 'Cause if the phone's off, it goes right to voicemail, and we're not allowed to not answer, so they'll come and check, right?" Blaine reasoned.

Kurt wasn't so sure, but he agreed with Blaine anyway. "I hope so." Kurt spun around in place, hoping to spot any bit of light, but it was no use; the darkness in the safe house was absolute.

"Well, now what?" Kurt asked. "There's not really much we can do in total darkness."

"I can think of a few things."

"Blaine!" Kurt said in exasperation. "I'm not exactly in the mood for _that_ right now."

"I meant that we could sing, or we could grab your iPod and listen to music because that has a little battery power left if I remember correctly – "

"Oh, and the screen has a little bit of light, too!" Kurt turned toward the bag where he kept the iPod and apparently forgot for a few moments that he couldn't see because he immediately tripped on pretty much nothing and fell to his knees. "DAMMIT! OW! That fuckin' HURTS!"

Blaine winced in sympathy; it took a lot to make Kurt swear, so Blaine figured he had to be hurting pretty badly. "Are you okay, baby? I'm holding out my hand – stretch your hand out and see if you can find me."

"Okay," he agreed, and he began pawing the air. He made contact with something – he felt around a bit and determined he had found Blaine's knee.

"You found me!" Blaine said, a smile in his voice. "Now, I'm reaching out to you to help you up from the floor. Reach just a little higher."

Kurt traced his hands up Blaine's leg to find his hand.

"Um, Kurt, honey – if you're not in the mood for _that_, I highly suggest you reach outwards a bit instead of upwards. Otherwise, certain parts of me are going to end up very disappointed.

Kurt giggled and mischievously ghosted his hand upward before reaching his hand out to locate Blaine's hand. Blaine groaned. "Ugh, you brat. You're going to pay for that later, you know."

"I was counting on it."

Finally their hands found each other and Blaine pulled Kurt up to a standing position. "OUCH!" Kurt yelped. "Landing on your kneecaps on a cement floor does bad things to my ability to stand."

"Come on, babe. Lean on me, and let's shuffle back toward where the bed is. It's big enough – we should be able to find it."

Slowly they slid their feet across the cold, hard floor and they ran into the bed. Blaine felt around with his hands to determine where they were in relation to the bed; he didn't want to set Kurt down only to find that he was sitting him down half on and half off the edge or something.

Blaine found the middle and very gently lowered him into a reclined position. He felt down Kurt's legs to his knees; though Kurt sucked in a sharp breath when Blaine's hands began pressing down to look for especially tender spots, in Blaine's very unprofessional opinion, he didn't think anything was permanently damaged.

"How do they feel, Kurt? I can tell they're tender, but I don't feel any swelling, and I don't think there'd be a break if there wasn't any swelling, and – "

"Blaine, honey, I'm okay. Just knowing you're here to take care of me is already making me feel better."

"Do you want me to grab some aspirin or something from the fridge to use as an ice pack?"

"No, I don't want you moving around any more than necessary. We saw what that got me. Why don't you curl up on the bed with me and we'll just wait for Janet to get worried about us and come down."

"Okay."

Blaine carefully launched himself over Kurt's body onto the other side of the bed. Kurt immediately curled up into him, resting his cheek on Blaine's chest.

"Sing something for me," Kurt requested.

"Anything in particular?"

"Well, something soft and slow that's not going to vault me off your chest and cause you to dance on the furniture."

Blaine thought for a moment.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you, tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart  
Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions  
Oh let's go back to the start  
Running in circles, coming up tails  
Heads on a science apart_

Kurt loved his song choice. Coldplay had some great stuff, but this was one of his favorites, and Blaine sounded so good singing it. Kurt sang along with him, softly adding harmonies and joining him on the oooohs at the end of the song.

They were just finishing the song together when Kurt heard a noise. "Shh shh, Blaine, do you hear something?"

"Of course I don't hear anything, Kurt. This place is soundproofed, remember?"

"I'm telling you, Blaine, I HEARD something! Shut up and listen!"

Blaine stopped talking and waited. For minutes, all they could hear was the sound of their own breathing.

"See? You're hearing things. Being in this windowless room has gotten to you, Kurt."

"Oh god, I'm going insane!" Kurt lamented.

"It's okay, Kurt – I'm surprised we lasted this long without cr – "

_**BANG BANG BANG**_

Blaine blanched.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear THAT!" Kurt hissed.

_**BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG **_

"Kurt," Blaine said, trembling with fear. "I think we need to hide."

"Where are we going to hide in this place? We're sitting ducks in here!"

"The bathroom will put another door in between us and whatever the _FUCK _that is trying to get in here," Blaine pointed out. "I don't think we have any other choice."

"Okay," Kurt said meekly.

Blaine crawled back over Kurt and got off the bed. "I think we'll be better off if we crawl over there – it'll kill our knees, but we won't fall." Kurt slid off the bed onto the floor next to Blaine. "Are you going to be able to handle it with your hurt knees?"

"Blaine, something's after us and I am scared out of my damn _mind._ My knees are the last of my concern."

_**BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG**_

"It's getting louder," Kurt whispered.

"We need to move before they break through. I'll go first. You stay close enough behind me where you can touch my foot to know where I am."

Slowly but steadily they crawled to the bathroom, which was on the opposite side of the room from where they were. Both were thankful it was sparsely furnished; it made things a lot easier.

_**BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG**_

_**BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG**_

"Hurry, Blaine – I thought I heard someone yelling that time!" Kurt said, his voice betraying his fear.

They crawled faster and finally reached the tiny bathroom. They stood as they entered, and they both leaned against the door in lieu of a lock. It was the best they could do. Blaine reached for Kurt's hand and squeezed tightly. He squeezed so hard it was hurting Kurt, but he didn't care. It was the only measure of comfort he had right now.

_**BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG **_

"_**I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! COME ON OUT FAGS!"**_

Blaine began to mumble under his breath. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

"Blaine, I thought you didn't believe in God!"

"I don't, usually!" he said, beginning to get a bit hysterical. "But there's someone out there trying to kill us! It seemed like the thing to do!" He began again. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass – "

Blaine was again interrupted, this time by the sound of a scuffle. Several gunshots rang out and Kurt burst into tears. "Blaine, I love you so much!"

"Don't say it like it's goodbye, Kurt!"

"But it might be, Blaine! I don't want to die without reminding you that you are the best thing that ever happened to me!"

"Oh Kurt, I love you too."

Kurt and Blaine threw their arms around each other and launched themselves into a desperate kiss. They jumped apart when they heard more gunshots, louder this time, echoing in their underground room. One bullet lodged itself in the doorframe of the bathroom, and Kurt screamed in terror.

_**BANG**_

One final gunshot.

Then all was still.

The only sounds that could be heard was Blaine's heavy breathing, which was escalating into the mother of all panic attacks, and Kurt's quiet sobs.

The night light in the socket above them flickered on provided a shred of light.

"Blaine? Kurt? Boys? Where are you?" a female voice called out. _JANET._

The voice came closer. It sounded as if it was right outside the door. "Boys, please? Are you in there? I know you must be terrified. Please come out?"

"H-h-how d-do we kn-kn-know it's y-you?" Kurt stammered.

"_Kurt_," Janet said, her breath rushing out in a huge sigh of relief. "Um, let's see. Here. I'm going to slide my ID under the door." A badge and ID wallet appeared in the crack underneath the door. The picture was of Janet, but the name belonged to a Joanna Darby.

"It d-doesn't help," Kurt said slowly, trying to control the fear stutter that had developed. "W-we only know you as J-J-Janet."

"Shit," she said. "I forgot about that. Um… we talked a lot in the car ride here. Ask me something I would only know from that conversation."

Kurt tried desperately to dredge up their talk from that trip. "What did my m-mom sing to me when I was little?"

"_Oh thank god,_" she mumbled. "Blackbird, by the Beatles. You said she had been singing it to you since before you were born."

Kurt choked back a sob. "Correct."

"Do you believe me now? Will you come out?"

Kurt wasn't sure. He looked over at Blaine, but Blaine was still trying to deal with his own fears and sat hugging himself around the middle, as if he could physically hold himself together.

"Um…"

"KURT? KURT? WHERE ARE YOU?" a familiar voice shouted.

"Dad?"

"Kurt? Kurt, buddy, come out of there, please?"

"How'd I get the scar on my arm and when?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" Burt asked, slightly confused.

"Answer it, Mr. Hummel," the woman urged.

"Um, you had a funny looking mole on your arm a couple of years ago. Doc cut it off and had it tested to make sure it wasn't cancer and it wasn't."

Kurt pulled Blaine away from the door and fumbled with the lock. He opened the door and dragged Blaine out with him. One look at Blaine from Janet and she was ordering the paramedic that had just descended the stairs to look him over. As soon as Blaine was taken from his arms, Kurt threw himself at his dad.

"Dad, oh god, Dad, I was so scared. I thought this was it. I was so sure he was going to kill us," he babbled.

"He didn't, Kurt. He didn't. You're here, and Blaine's here, and that sick bastard is going to fry if I have anything to say about it."

"What happened?" Kurt asked.

Janet spoke up then. "Just as we had gotten word of his whereabouts, we also discovered that he had figured out where you were and was planning on coming to get you today. We were about twenty minutes behind him."

Kurt turned to face Janet, recognizing that yes, she was who she said she was. "I'm so sorry I didn't trust you just now."

"Oh no, don't be sorry!" she exclaimed. "You never open the door for someone you aren't sure of, especially when you've been through something like this. You did exactly right, Kurt, and you never need to apologize for that." Kurt peeled himself from his father's arms and briefly hugged her.

He directed his attention to the bed where the paramedic had Blaine and was examining him. Blaine was working on calming himself, but he wasn't quite there yet. Kurt went to sit next to Blaine to see if he could be of any help, wobbling some as he walked. The adrenaline rush he had had before made him completely forget that he was injured, but it was starting to wear off and the pain was becoming prevalent. He pushed through, though; nothing was going to keep him from Blaine. He grabbed Blaine's hand and squeezed it firmly as he sat down.

"What else?" Kurt asked Janet.

"Sparing you all the gory details, he got here and started to break in. We got here just as he was able to lift the trapdoor and enter the safe room. It was still dark then; he had cut the power when he arrived. When we started to descend the steps to apprehend him, he began to shoot wildly. He was very close to hitting us so we made the decision to shoot back. We called for you boys and didn't hear any response, so we took the chance that you were hiding and fired into the direction the shots came from. It was a direct hit on the suspect. Then we got the lights back on and you know the rest. You boys were very smart to hide in the bathroom. It's probably what saved you."

"Blaine convinced me we needed to hide in there."

"He's a smart man."

"Yes, he is," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine who had finally started to breathe somewhat normally.

"I've got to know something, though. As soon as we found out this man knew where you were, we called and texted and got no response. There's got to be about thirty missed calls and texts on that phone. What happened?" Janet asked.

"You boys weren't, uh, _busy,_ were you?" Burt asked uncomfortably.

"What? NO! No. The phone is dead. We didn't know it was dead until the lights went out. We left it on the charger at all times as you directed us to, but somehow the plug was only sitting in the socket – it wasn't making enough of a connection to get power," Kurt explained.

Janet sighed. "Sometimes technology is more trouble than it's worth." She then turned to Blaine. "Blaine, how are you?"

"I feel like I just got run over by a bus, to tell you the truth. I'm exhausted," Blaine confessed. Kurt dropped Blaine's hand and pulled his whole body into his arms. Blaine melted into the embrace, in dire need of the comfort of his boyfriend.

"Kurt, do you need any medical attention?" Janet asked.

"No, I'm okay. I fell and landed hard on my knees earlier, but they didn't swell up and they only ache now. I'd like the chance to just let them heal on their own. I'll call my own doctor if anything seems wrong."

Janet nodded.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Kurt."

"Who was it? And what happened to him?" He cast a glance at some blood spatters on the floor nearby.

"The man we arrested is a Mr. Louis Nelson. He's the father of one of the boys on your school's football team."

Kurt shook his head when he heard the name. "I don't recognize the name. Normally when I'm getting slushied, I don't get the time to match names to faces."

Janet looked perplexed, but she continued on. "As we were shooting blindly into the dark, we didn't know where our shots would land. He was shot in the thigh and the upper abdomen, both in non-life threatening places. He'll be able to stand trial."

"Wish you would've killed him when you had the chance," Burt mumbled.

"I know," said Janet. "I kinda wish one of the bullets had landed in a bad place myself, if I'm being honest."

Detective Erickson entered the room. "Good to see you boys alive and well," he commented.

"It's good to _be_ alive," Kurt said. "We weren't sure…"

"I understand. Listen, I hate to have to get down to business, but we need to arrange some time to take your statements. I realize you probably weren't aware of anything that was going on, so it'll be a short process, but it needs to be done to complete our paperwork. Could we pop in on you tomorrow?"

Kurt nodded. "That's fine."

"What time?" Blaine asked. "So I know what time to be over at Kurt's?"

"Nonsense," said Burt. "You're staying at our house 'til further notice." Burt sat down on the bed next to Blaine. "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but we still haven't managed to get a hold of your parents to let them know what was going on. Your house is still empty, and I do NOT want you going home to stay when no one's there. We will take you by there tonight and you can get some fresh clothes and your school work and such."

Blaine didn't even bother arguing; the last thing he wanted to do was go home to a cold, dark, uninhabited house when he just came from a cold, dark room underground. "Thank you."

"Come on, Blaine. Let's go home."

"Home," Blaine echoed with a smile. Home was a word he wasn't sure he'd hear again. It sounded amazing.

They gathered their belongings and handed them to Burt and whoever else would agree to carry it all upstairs for them and they ascended the steps together, never once looking behind them.


End file.
